Aftermath
by qwertykid
Summary: Set after the events of Eclipse. Even though Balder may have been defeated, his legacy will live on. Jeanne will find out just how entrenched it truly is.


_Author's Note: I don't own any part of Bayonetta._

_Here is the first short story, as promised. This one is set between the events of Eclipse and Solar Flare, and tells the first tale of the fracturing of Jeanne and Damien._

_Enjoy!_

Aftermath

Jeanne wasn't sure of Damien.

What was he to her? Her roommate? Her friend? Her enemy? At any time, he was always one, but never all.

They had been living together for more than six months at this point. She had found work at a local high school as a history teacher, and he had found a hobby in becoming a vigilante. Both used each other to their benefit, and true to that their relationship was mostly symbiotic. She provided the income so they both could live, whilst he slayed angels by the masses to make sure Jeanne's infernal contracts remained satisfied.

It sounded like an idyllic life, when she thought about it. Then what was the problem?

Damien was always on edge around her, like he was expecting something to happen. Whenever she moved close to him, or suddenly did something, he would flinch or adopt a defensive pose. Some mornings he would walk around with a bruised neck or some sort of wound that made Jeanne wonder where he got it from. He never said anything, he just tried to heal himself as efficiently as possible. Jeanne understood why he was unwilling to talk. After all, she had scarred him deeply for most of his life, and all of his memory.

She knew that he had nightmares about the past twenty years, and she didn't blame him for it. Many a time whilst she was planning the next week, marking papers or just lounging about, she would hear him whimper and cry in his sleep. She ignored it at first, trying to not let the guilt rise too much, but when he began to call out for his parents, reminding her that he was still the teenager she had stumbled upon twenty years ago, she broke. Comforting him as best as she could, whispering soothing tones and holding him as a mother does for her child, she would try to make his soul rest.

Ever since Bayonetta had gone public with the near-apocalyptic situation of the planet, life had become a little interesting for her vigilante friend. Even though he could teleport at will, and enter Purgatorio to escape them forever, her days of arriving to the apartment with some number of paparazzi or fans had been numerous. Using Madama Styx as a deal-breaker, she would shoo them to give them privacy, especially when they needed to transfer angel souls and halos for her demons. The demons would then laugh at the sacrifice and would whisper endlessly as to how she was giving them treats.

She didn't understand, but if they were happy, she could be happy.

…

Was Damien terrified of Jeanne? Not anymore.

However, he was not at ease around her.

They were respectful around each other to the point that it felt more like a student/teacher dynamic than anything else. He knew that she respected his power, and in turn he respected hers. As much as he tried to help around the apartment, something of his would always get in the way. Be it his wing, his strength or generally his person, something would go wrong.

Mortals were a different story. When it finally broke out that some entity with a single black wing was out saving the innocent and protecting the law, it was surprisingly easy for them to piece together that the one who had saved Isla Del Sol was now in England, and for them to accept him. Bayonetta had announced the whole Jubelius thing a month prior, convincing any sceptics with the help of Madama Butterfly, and the two of them were regarded as heroes to the planet. Jeanne merely sighed at her exclusion but understood why. The people loved him and claimed him at their champion, even though he was a foreign entity and completely unrelatable to any of them. He tried to avoid the paparazzi and various journalists as much as he could, but they always found him, and then Jeanne would be forced to scare them off with the help of Madama Styx.

He had never felt more alone.

He knew that she dreaded sleeping. He also knew that she rarely did, if ever. If there wasn't any school-related work to do, she would throw herself into chores, television, social media, literally anything to keep her mind stimulated and awake. Only in the early hours of the morning would her mind and body crumble, and then her sleep sometimes was filled with screams and pleads to someone, quite possibly the late Balder. He would cradle her in his arms and take her to her bedroom, tuck her in like a father and stay by her side and hold her hand, to reassure her subconscious that someone was there for her. That she wasn't alone in her nightmare.

The other times were not so pretty. The knowledge Damien had was sworn to himself and himself only.

Balder remained in her head, and his influence sometimes manifested outside of her subconscious. Many a night had a blue-eyed Jeanne come screaming at him, magic forgotten, trying to main, hurt or even kill him. Refusing to hurt her, he let her tear at his flesh or beat on him with her fists, all whilst growling in the angelic language of the Laguna. She always collapsed with exhaustion before any real damage was done, and then the ritual of healing himself began. Jeanne would always find him in its later stages, but would say nothing about the fact her friend looked like they were in a minor car crash every week or so. He always wondered why she didn't ask, and sometimes he felt as if she knew, but couldn't approach the subject. That line of thinking hurt him, and he treaded warily around her.

…

The underlying tension and emotions between the two had to come to a reckoning. And it was on this night, half a year from the death of Jubileus and a year since Damien had slaughtered his way out of Ithavoll, that it happened.

…

Jeanne found herself nodding away, and she slapped herself to try and keep herself awake. Trying to focus on the exam papers in front of her, she checked the marking key and found that she was a page behind, making most of the papers she had already marked incorrect.

"Fuck it all to hell!" She cursed, and closed her eyes in frustration at herself, at her dreams and at Balder for causing all of this. A hand was placed onto her shoulder in comfort and rubbed it.

"You need rest, Jeanne." Damien's voice spoke to her from behind her. "I know you don't like it, but you're going to burn yourself out before too long."

She pushed his hand off and turned her chair to face him. This morning he had several scratches along his neck, now his body was back to the normal scar tissue it normally was. "Sleep, for me, is not what I fucking need. What I need is to remark all of these exams before tomorrow!" She gestured back to the desk. "And you, right now, are not helping that!"

"You know that I am just as capable as marking those." He frowned at her. "Jeanne, look; the less sleep you have, the more likely you are to make more mistakes, and then you'll get angry and the cycle repeats itself ad nauseum. Then you'll collapse again, and then you won't have marked anything."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "What do you know of my sleep?" She stood up, a newfound energy from her emotions. "I can't sleep!"

"Neither can I, and I fucking try to sleep." He was trying to remain level with her. "You know why I can't."

"Just let me do this!"

"No! Jeanne!" He finally snapped. "I didn't risk recapture from Balder, I didn't save you, I didn't do anything for you just, just so you can piss it all away when you kill yourself from sleep deprivation."

Her eyes gleamed with anger, and then tears. "I can't face them…"

Stepping forward to embrace her, he held the crying witch. "Face what?"

"Your family. Their voices, reminding me that I don't deserve anything. Their voices, telling me that you are going to kill me at any time because of what I did to them. Their screams, as I keep murdering them and murdering them and murdering them…" She began to repeat the last three words, tears flowing freely. "And then their corpses reminding me of how much I enjoyed it!"

Damien couldn't answer. His feelings were complicated, and he couldn't answer without looking like a heartless bastard or a vengeful pariah. Closing his eyes, he chose his next words carefully.

"I don't blame you; I blame Balder. And you know who we all got our revenge on? Balder. Anything I feel towards you is one of compassion and empathy, not hate or anger."

Jeanne leaned back, and almost let go. "But how can you feel empathy for a murderer? Even if you think that, I killed hundreds of people, all because of you." She whispered. "How can you still live with me?"

"Because when I look into your eyes, I don't see what you see." He whispered back. "You see a murderer, a defiled protector, a dismissed piece of meat. You think that you are beyond redemption and beyond repair."

She looked into his eyes. "What do you see?"

"I see a scared, young woman who has forgotten that above all, she had no choice in anything she did, no actions she could achieve." He answered, making sure he looked deeply into hers. "You regret the actions of a dead man, and it is understanding, but it is not your fault."

"I might sound callous," He continued, moving them into the living room and onto the couch. "But the Damien you know and the Damien I have no connection to the Damien my family knew. Even If I hated you because you killed them, I can't blame you for their deaths."

"Even if you feel guilt for taking away my family from me, you replaced it with a new one. My sister, Bayonetta. My best friend, Luka. And you, Jeanne. You are all the family I could want." He smiled gently as her eyes widened in surprise.

"You really think that?" She asked, her voice dry but hopeful.

"I do Jeanne." He looked over her, noting how she was starting to tremble. "Come, let me put you to bed before you pass out."

Jeanne nodded, but timidly stopped Damien before he could stand. "I don't think I have the strength to stand…"

He laughed and picked her up, bridal-style. She giggled at his antics, but held onto him, arms wrapped around his neck. They walked to her bedroom, a good mood permeating his footsteps. The only sound was the scraping sound of his feathers on the wall, and the small inhales of the pair.

Jeanne's room was exactly like Bayonetta would remember, Damien reflected as he placed her onto her bed. A neat, orderly place, yet extravagant and over the top. Everything was designer furniture, top of the range, but it wasn't obnoxious or came of as an attempt to impress and wow him. It was just…homely. Practical. And it was all reds and whites as well.

He smiled at her as she snuggled into her quilt as he placed it on her. She was very childlike, when she threw away her public persona. It faded as he remembered her upbringing, or what she had told him of it.

"Night, Jeanne." He said as he turned to leave.

"Damien." He heard her say as he reached the doorway. Turning around awkwardly, he turned to see her peeking at him. "Did I ever hurt you?"

"When?" He faced her properly. "During the 'training' Balder assigned to you and me?"

She nodded, and he continued. "Physically, yes. Mentally? I'm not sure. But that wasn't you. Just remember that." He looked guilty, then turned back into the room. Walking back into the room, he sat beside her on the bed. Taking her hand again, his eyes threatened to release the suddenly formed tears.

"You remember Vigrid Airport?" He asked, and then Jeanne went cold as she too remembered their first true meeting.

"You nearly killed me." She said the words before she could think.

"I intended to kill you. When I finally gained access to your mind, I was fully prepared to wipe it clean. No trace of you left. In fact, I was fully prepared to destroy it beyond repair, and that you would die there, a wheezing vegetable." He looked at her carefully. "Does that make me any better than what you think of yourself?"

"But you didn't." She whispered. "You had the opportunity to strike me down but spared me. I didn't spare anyone."

"You weren't in control of your actions." He shook his head. "I was. I should be repulsive to you."

She leaned forward and hugged him. "You don't repulse me because you saved me, even though you had every right to kill me."

He hugged her back, letting her scent cloud him for a second. "And you don't repulse me because the Jeanne I thought you were is not the Jeanne you actually are. I had no right to take this away from you."

Releasing her for a second, he looked at her in concern. "You really need the rest, Jeanne. Please, go to sleep."

She began to grin childishly. "No goodnight kiss for me?"

He blushed and then laughed awkwardly. "Uhhhhh…."

She giggled at his antics. "I'm just kidding…"

Lying down, she closed her eyes and immediately felt sleep coming to take her. Right before she lost conscious, she felt a pair of lips brush against her own, for the briefest of seconds.

…

An hour later, the apartment was quiet, except for Damien's pen on the various exam papers. The sheer number of mistakes only made him feel worse for not stepping in earlier. He sighed as he thought of Jeanne. She was on route to killing herself, and it pained him that he couldn't do anything to stop her, to help her. All he could do was watch her try to pull herself out of the darkness she was in. The kiss he had given her played through his mind. He really shouldn't have done that. Her emotions were fragile, and his recklessness would cause her pain if they continued down the path he feared.

His inattention nearly cost him his life. A screech and a blur was Jeanne, eyes glowing blue, as she barrelled into him. Her nails ripped into his flesh like claws, and her mouth went straight to his neck. Realizing it was a lot more manic and desperate, Damien grabbed her head before she could tear out his throat. Grappling with her, he threw her back and out of the study. Bursting out after her, he could see her demonic powers trying to manifest, but failing. Hissing, she began to chant in the language of the angels. That was stopped by a backhand slap with his wing, tossing her into the wall. Summoning Shuraba, Damien swung it at her neck, flat edge towards her, and wedged it into the wall. She was now trapped, and her fingers bled as she grabbed at the blade, trying to free herself.

"Balder." Damien hissed. "Leave her. You have nothing left for you here. Your body is destroyed, your Goddess is dead. Why do you cling to her?"

She snarled back. Her voice was distorted, as if multiple people were speaking through her. Jeanne's and Balder's, he recognised; there was a third that he did not.

"This girl will be our salvation! For as long as she lives, you will never escape us." The eye's glowed brighter with the power contained within.

"You will find your vessel very unwilling and very protected." Damien's eyes glowed with his power, and Shuraba also glowed in response to its master's anger. "Leave her."

Jeanne snarled, and then visibly wilted. Her eyes returned to their normal hue, and her hands dropped to her sides. Her eyes closed briefly, and then reopened as her situation become apparent to her.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" She screamed looking in terror at Damien. "WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"Calm down Jeanne." Damien let Sharuba disappear back to Inferno. "It's alright, it's going to be ok…"

"THIS WAS NOT FUCKING OK!" She looked at her hands and screamed. "WHY AM I BLEEDING? WHY IS YOUR BLOOD HERE?"

She saw the long scratches on his arms, with huge chunks of flesh missing. She finally realised what had happened. "I did this to you?"

His face hardened. "Jeanne, it's not your fault-"

"Answer me. Fucking answer me Sephiroth." His old name slipped from her tongue.

"You did." He conceded. He stepped back, his body defensive.

Jeanne collapsed to her knees. "I hurt you."

"Balder still has some sort of influence over you." He kneeled in front of her and began to weave a heal spell. "I'm not sure-"

"I thought you expelled him from there?" She looked confused and hurt, as if he lied to her.

"I thought I did too." He looked grim as he gently grabbed her hands and held them as the green energy began to heal the cuts on her fingers. "He is far stronger than I believed."

"Is that why you've looked like shit most mornings?" Her voice was shaking. "He's been taking over me and attacking you?"

"Yeah. This is the first he has ever gone for the kill, and the first time I've needed to defend myself." He finished her hands and moved onto her neck, massaging it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered.

"You were already under enough stress. I didn't want to extend you further." He finished with her as the spell faded.

Jeanne didn't look at him. "Just leave me be…"

"Jeanne, I highly disagree-"

"Just leave me!" She yelled at him, and he backed off, a heavy feeling in his heart.

…

Jeanne began to shake as the last trace of his wing disappeared out of the lounge room. She was still tainted by Balder. And he could still control her, even without her being awake. No one was safe around her.

She had to leave.

How long would it be until Balder regained control of her again? How long until Damien died trying to force him out? How long would it be until Balder was reborn, and the Trinities were put under his tyranny? And how long would it take for Bayonetta to be found, and Jubelius to be freed from her prison resurrected, truly?

She couldn't stay. She had to leave, and she had to die, and along with her the last remnants of the Lumen Sage.

With shaking hands, she found a pen, and some paper.

…

Damien awoke with a sense of foreboding and dread. Walking out, he saw the damage from last night; a wall had a sizeable dent and slice in it, the exam papers were torn to shreds and scattered around the room, blood had dried along the wall and floor where she had been trapped. Chunks of his flesh lay in the study, and Damien looked away in disgust.

"Jeanne?" He asked tentatively. She normally woke early on a school day. So, it stood to reason that she would be around and about.

Silence greeted him.

Walking to her bedroom, he stormed in. "Jeanne!"

Her bed was empty and an envelope addressed to him lay upon it. Opening it, he quickly read through it, his face and posture wilting every sentence.

_Damien,_

_I know you've been trying, but you can't help me. If what you say is true, then Balder still resides within me, and I am still a danger to you, Cereza and the whole world. I can't risk your safety and the worlds safety with me still alive._

_I'm going to die. If Balder remains within me as I die, then he will as well, and his influence over the world will cease. You will be safe, Cereza will be safe and the world will need not care about Lumen Sages and their ilk any longer. Don't try to follow me. I don't want to cause you any more pain, and I don't want Cereza to try and convince me to live._

_I can only hope that you are treated well by the mortals. You deserved a better life._

_Jeanne._

…

Bayonetta let the sun shine on her body as she relaxed at Vigrid beach. Beside her, Luka was applying sunscreen, and trying to sneak glances at her.

"You know Cheshire, we are dating. You don't have to hide looking." She smirked. Luka yelped at her words and turned back to her.

"I'm trying to not be a pervert here." Luka admonished her. "And I can't always just give up the chase, you know?"

"Well, once the sun goes down and we are back in town, you can chase me and be as perverted as you please." Bayonetta winked.

Luka stuttered and blushed. "You know, all I wanted to do was relax with you at the beach, not require a cold shower every minute."

Bayonetta stretched and deliberately showed off her curves. Luka could only watch and whimper as she moaned sensually and moved slowly, making sure he saw everything.

"I am relaxing Cheshire. You might need to learn how to as well."

And that was when a portal opened, and a beam of light shot out of it onto the beach in front of her, other beachgoers screaming and running from it. In an instant Bayonetta was on her feet, hair wrapping around her to form her Umbran battlesuit, pulling out Scarborough Fair. Placing herself between Luka and the newcomer, she stood ready to fight to the death.

_And they couldn't wait until after the vacation…_She mused. _Rude fucker._

The person who stood up was all but unfamiliar to her.

"Damien?" She asked, uncertainly. "Brother? What are you doing here?"

His grim and panicked face made her panic slightly. Luka stood up behind her, equally as confused.

"Where's Jeanne?" He asked, looking around for the platinum blonde witch that normally accompanied him.

"You need to come with me. She's gone." Damien answered, and Bayonetta's heart fell into pieces.

…

"You think that she is here?" Damien turned to the witch in black behind him, her face serious.

"Yes." Bayonetta nodded. "When we were younger, she always went here when the stress of being the Umbran Heir became too much. If she isn't here…"

"She will be here." Damien cut her off. "I don't want to think about it if she isn't."

They found themselves back in Vigrid, looking into the ruins of the Crescent Valley. A small stream of water ran below them, leading into a cave. Leading the pair, the witch stepped slowly and carefully through the cavern, taking care not to break the tranquillity of the atmosphere.

"Where are we?" Damien asked, looking around in wonder. The walls of the cavern flowed with magical energy, illuminating the walls dimly.

"An old reservoir, where young witches would absorb energies into themselves in order to strengthen their magical bonds." She gestured to a nearby stream. "Something Jeanne would frequent, and something I never needed."

"Due to your heritage?" He tilted his head. Bayonetta nodded in answer.

"Something like that. I didn't know it at the time, but it makes sense now."

They continued to walk in silence, both reminiscing about the past.

"Stop." Bayonetta held a hand up. The winged man stopped, his eyes glancing around in confusion. "She's up ahead."

"Oh." Damien reached out with his senses and found a human up ahead. "So, what's the plan? What are we-"

"I'll go in alone." She turned to him and shook her head. "I think she wants another face, if any."

He hesitated, then grimaced. "That would be best."

She pressed a hand against his cheek. "Don't worry so much. It's going to be ok, ok?"

He nodded, and she could tell he was supressing a lot of emotions all at once. Smiling softly, she turned and walked into the cavern beyond.

Jeanne was sitting in the middle as she used to, the soft glow of the reservoir of magic illuminating her pale features.

"Jeanne?" She called out, and the witch in red turned to her in surprise, shock on her features. Her face was dirty, and dried tears washed her face.

"Cereza?" Her voice was panicked. "You shouldn't be here!"

"I know what happened, Jeanne." She walked over and sat down next to her. "Are you-"

"I am not alright!" Jeanne pushed her away. "I still have that parasite in me!"

"Jeanne, we are here to help." She ignored her attempts and returned to her original position."

"Like Damien helped?" She turned away. "Are you lying as well?"

The witch in black regarded her friend with a look of sadness. She knew she was not handling this as well as she could be, yet she knew Jeanne was not in a stable enough state to be reasoned with.

"Why do you think death will solve anything?" She asked, trying a different approach.

"Because if I am dead, you all can't be harmed by him." Jeanne answered morosely. "It's only a matter of time."

_Damien!? _She mentally reached out into their link. _Help me!_

_Tell her about Balder!_ He answered quickly. Her eyes widened, then she realised what he was talking about.

"You know what happened in Ithavoll, right?" Bayonetta asked, and Jeanne finally turned to her. "I killed Balder."

"But we fought him when he awoke Jubileus, did we not?" Jeanne's face fell. "It… it wouldn't work, wouldn't it?"

"Yes." Damien finally appeared, and Jeanne gasped. "If you were to die, nothing would stop Balder from using your body as his vessel truly."

"I don't know anymore." The witch in red buried her face in her hands. "I just want you all to be safe…"

Damien crouched down, and glanced over at his sister. "The safest thing for you, right now, is to be with us."

"How does that work?!" Jeanne exclaimed, slamming her fist into the ground.

"Because this way, you would be under our supervision at all times." Bayonetta nodded. "And thus we can make sure you aren't going to harm anyone."

"I've already hurt people!" She refuted, and Damien grabbed her hands.

"Jeanne, it doesn't matter to me." He smiled. "You, as you are, have never hurt anyone."

"You…" She swallowed, then threw herself into an embrace. "Just don't lie again…"

"I… promise." He cautiously answered. Bayonetta frowned at his answer, but made no mention of it.

After all, to what benefit could Damien gain through lying through his teeth?


End file.
